A City Left Behind
Description A City Left Behind is a short story detailing the events leading up to Val's departure from Urbi Lupi and Dean's struggles during The Winter Rebellion. Part One “I’m not leaving alone. You two can’t stay here. People are going to get hurt.” The room was lit by what little light was outside. A few subtle rays of sunlight soaked through the thin fabric of the curtains. Two people stood inside the cramped room. A young woman with lush red hair paced back and forth across the room. A man around her age stood there arms at his side. “I can’t leave. Not yet.” The woman turned on her heel and faced the man in black armor over his violet cloak. “Have you seen what’s out there?” She walked over to the window and threw open the curtains. “There is an army of White Cross Knights here and a lot of angry people with hungry families. Not to mention those cloaked whatever they are lurking about for lords know what.” The man stepped over and gently put a hand to her wrist, “I can’t leave.” He took the curtains and drew them to a close. “Not without answers.” The woman leaned against the wall, her red and white dress curling up as she leaned her head back and slid down the wall just a bit. “You’re such a hardhead, you know that?” The young man snickered before turning his head away from her. She looked at him. His brown hair curling at the bangs, the white light shining through the window behind him. She didn’t often see him smile, and with the way he was turning his head away it wasn’t something he wanted her to see. She sighed, “What about the little guy? What are you going to do if he gets hurt in all this?” That brought his eyes back on her, “He’ll be fine. BlackLight knows how to take care of himself.” The woman stepped off the wall and straightened up. “Yeah you’re probably right.” She stepped over and pushed on the man’s shoulder lightly with her fist. “I should be more worried about you. No telling what you’ll get yourself into.” The young man threw up his hood, covering his eyes and leaving the rest of his face in shadow. “Val...They won’t even see me coming.” He said with a smirk. Val shook her head, “You’re wearing black embroidered armor and a purple hood. Plus, you carry a sword unlike anything people use here. You stand out like a sore thumb.” The man just shrugged, “Black works really well at night.” She cut him a look as sharp as a knife, “And during the day?” “Then I’ll look really good when they try to take me on.” He walked to the door, picking up a bag and throwing it over his shoulder along the way. Twisting the knob and cracking the door open he looked back to her, “You coming?” Part Two The sun hadn’t been out in its full glory in days. Hidden behind a blanket of clouds with only the cold bite of the wind to greet the pair upon stepping outside. They left the inn behind them and made their way down the street. The stone clicking beneath the man’s boots and the woman’s sandals. “A bit cold to be wearing a dress isn’t it?” He said. Small clouds escaped the woman’s lips as she breathed. “I’ve been inside lately.” The man nodded, “Makes sense. With how things have been lately and all.” The woman just nodded back, tucking her hands beneath her arms. “I’ve got something at the tailor’s a little more suited for the weather. We’re picking that up first.” She said. The man nodded. The majority of the trip was quiet. A blue hue set over the city with the gentle fall of white snow decorating the streets and rooftops. Most people were indoors. Those that were out seemed to be gathering what they needed during the calm and making their way back home. This city hadn’t been safe as of late. The mines had run dry and many were without work. The wealthy’s pockets were hurting for sure but they simply had to redirect their coin to better investments. Those who had spent their lives working in the mines had little more they could do to put food on the table. With hunger came anger and when you can’t blame a mountain for running out of resources you build resentment towards those who are better off. The winters the people of Urbi Lupi had to endure were always rough. Many got sick, some died. But this year with little to eat or to keep warm, bodies were buried in the dozens and hate began to grow. Without purpose miners turned into rioters and some nights you could see buildings go ablaze. That’s why Val had to get out of the city. The rioting had come to a halt when The King’s elite army, The White Cross Knights, showed up. But it was a temporary fix. You could feel the tension in the air. More was to come and blood would be shed. “How long has it been Dean? Since we saw each other last?” Val questioned. Dean leaned his head back and looked to the sky, “Spring before last if I recall.” “Has it really been almost two years?” Val asked in surprise. “It’s about that time again. So yeah, two years.” She stopped and Dean turned towards her. Her thumb and forefinger on her chin. “What is it?” Dean asked. “What about that tavern, by the Kiro river. That wasn’t during the spring.” Dean snapped his fingers, “You’re right. That was last fall. But that was only for one night. We were heading separate ways.”''' Val walked past him, twisting one of his bangs in her fingers as she passed. “I asked when we saw each other last. Not when we spent quality time together.” He spun on his heel and followed suit, “That is true. You did say that.” He quickly caught up and kept pace at her side. They were approaching the south gate, local militia at their post. “So where are we heading?” Dean asked. “I told you already. We’re heading to a tailor to pick something up.” Val responded. “Looks like we’re heading out of the city to me.” He said back. “It’s nearby.” She turned right and took a street west from the gate. Dean stayed by her side. A few moments went by before they arrived at the shop. It was open, lacking a wall on the street side. You could see some of the tailor’s previous works and his station in the back. It looked more like a blacksmith than a tailor shop. “This is the place?” Dean questioned. “This is it.” An old man hunched over walked out from behind sheets of fabric hanging from a clothesline. “Mr. Saltmire!” Val shouted and power walked towards the old man. 'He was wiping something off of his hands with an old cloth when he heard the young woman call for him. He squinted his eyes and then a smile broke across his face revealing his few remaining teeth, “Valenssia. It’s so nisse to see you.” He stepped at a snail’s pace forward as she embraced him. “Please call me Erlvyne.” He said as he hugged her with one arm. She stepped back and shook his hand, “Of course Erlvyne, and please. Call me Val.” He nodded before turning his attention to the young man standing out in the street, “and who is this?” 'Val turned and held her hand out towards the young man, “This is my friend, Dean. He’s going to be staying here a while.” She waved for Dean to come forward, so he did. As he walked over Val made a gesture to take his hood off. After a moment of inner debate, he threw it back and stood in front of the old man. “Dean this is Mr. Sa...This is Erlvyne.” Dean held out his hand. The old man took it and looked the youth in the eyes. “Nice to meet you Erlvyne.” Dean said. The elder squeezed with a powerful grip for a man his age, “Mr. Saltmire to you lad.” Dean took his hand back as soon as the man let go and wiped it across his leg. “Okay, Mr. Saltmire it is.” He looked to Val as if to say, What’s this guy’s deal? 'Val gave a little shrug and returned her attention to Erlvyne. “Is it ready? What we talked about before.” 'The old man nodded and turned back towards his shop, “Yes, I have it in the back. I’m proud of this one. I’ll be back in just a moment little miss.” The old man disappeared into the shadows and Val stepped back next to Dean. “He’s such a nice old man.” She said. Dean shook his head, “You didn’t nearly lose your hand to the old guy.” Val smirked, “Oh don’t tell me an elderly man hurt our fearless warrior.” Dean’s cheeks turned a peach pink and he rubbed the back of his hair, “No, no he didn’t. It’s just...yeah nevermind.” Val put a hand to her lips and giggled and Dean turned his head away in embarrassment. 'Then Mr. Saltmire stepped out from the back of his shop with something in his hands. A green coat folded over a pair of black leggings. He held a pair of boots between his fingers beneath the outfit. “Here you go. Is it to your liking?” The man held out the outfit and Val ran her fingers across it. A smile broke across her lips, “Do you mind?” She asked the elderly man. “Sure. Go ahead.” He said. Val took the coat and held it over herself with one of the arms stretched out over hers. “What do you think?” She asked turning to Dean. 'Dean looked at the coat and tried to imagine it on the girl. It looked nice. It was a dark green, like the leaves of a tree in the middle of summer. It was different, not like her usual bright and colorful dresses. It was dark and strong, yet still beautiful. “It fits you.” She smiled, “I thought so too.” “I’ve got a little something extra for you. Have the lad carry the outfit for you.” Mr. Saltmire said. Val took the coat and folded it back into a square before placing it back with the rest of the outfit and passing it to Dean. 'The old man once again faded into the shadows at the back of the shop. “Wasn’t aware we were going shopping.” Dean said gesturing with the clothes in hand. “Oh didn’t I tell you? You’re paying for all of this.” Val replied matter of factly. Dean tried to say something but his mouth stumbled across unformed words, “I...but...you see.” The young woman put both hands to her lips and giggled, “I’m kidding silly. This is already paid for.” Dean leaned his head back, “You like teasing me don’t you?” Val smiled, “You know it.” Just then the old man returned with something in hand. Val gasped, “Oh! I love them!” 'Val walked over to the old man to look over what he had brought out. Dean stepped back outside and looked to the sky. It was a pale blue seeping through gray cloud carpet. Snowflakes drifted down from the sky and danced across his face. The cold sting quickly fading as they melted across his face. It was nice, this time with a friend. There weren’t a lot of opportunities for happiness during his travels. With the way things were looking, chances were the good times were about to come to an end. So he took a breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs. He looked to the mountain the city was embedded into and then turned back to the shop. Now was the time to enjoy what he had while it lasted. Part Three' An hour had passed since they were at the tailor’s. Now they were sitting in a pub known as the Lunar Downpour. It was a popular place, even outside of the city itself, known for its strong and flavorful drinks. The food was fine too though not as much as the drinks. A waitress walked over to Dean and Val to refill their drinks. Dean put a hand over his and waved his other, “I’m good.” The waitress nodded her head, “Can I do anything else for you two today? Desert perhaps?” Dean and Val spoke in unison, “No thank you.” The two looked at each other and laughed. The food may be okay but dessert was definitely not the owner’s forte. The sweet the two shared last time was as hard as stone. “Okay then.” The waitress said and started to walk off to serve other customers. Dean stopped her for a moment, “You could do one thing.” She stopped and turned around with a smile, “Of course, what can I do for you?” Dean leaned over and spoke in a hushed tone, “How close are we to another riot?” 'The warm look in the waitress's’ face drained away as she was reminded of the bleak reality outside of these walls, “The next one could happen any day now. It’s only getting colder and more people are losing family members as the day goes on. You two aren’t from around here are you?” This time Val responded, “No we’re not. But we’re familiar with the area.” The waitress nodded, “If the weather wasn’t as harsh as it is I would recommend you get out and wait for things to get better. As is, your chances of getting hurt are pretty poor either way.” 'Dean nodded, “What do you know about the White Cross being here?” He asked. The White Cross was a private army under King Julian. At first they were a small guard, meant to protect him in his travels but in recent years their numbers grew substantially and now they act as a peacekeeping force throughout the nation. People’s views on them varied, on one hand they were effective at putting down bandits and other such threats. However, every city had always looked out for itself before and a foreign army, even with an allied city, was a bit unnerving. 'The waitress balled her fist against her dress, twisting a bit of it into a knot. “Those blood thirsty warriors should be out there protecting us from bandits, not cutting us down in the streets.” Dean noticed a member of The White Cross sitting at the bar not too far from them. He wasn’t sure if the knight had overheard the waitress’ rise in tone. Dean leaned over and gently placed his hand over the waitress’ balled fist, “It’s okay. We understand your frustration.” The waitress started to calm with Dean’s touch. “I’m sorry it’s just…” She stopped. “Did you lose someone in the riots?” Dean asked. The waitress shook her head, “No, luckily. But my brother suffered a serious injury after one of those knights struck him in the leg.” Dean raised a brow, “Your brother was involved in the riots?” She shook her head, “No, yes… He’s just a confused boy. He’s only fourteen and he doesn’t have anyone but me. Our mom died in birth and our dad passed away in the fall after a long battle with a fever. Like many, my brother blamed those up on the hills for our dad’s death because we couldn't afford the medicine to make him better.” 'The waitress began wiping away tears with her free hand. Then when the tears turned to streams she set down the drinks and began wiping away at her face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Val stood up and took the waitress’ hands in hers, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Val took a cloth and began dabbing at the waitress’ cheeks. “It’s all my fault. I worked so hard but I couldn’t afford the medicine. Our dad died because of me.” Val hugged the waitress, “Aw honey it’s not your fault. You did all you could. We can’t always stop these kind of things from happening.” 'Dean just sat there waiting for the waitress to calm down. He wasn’t the best with dealing with emotions. Luckily a man at another table gave him something to do when he started pestering the girl, “Hey when are we going to get our drinks already?” Dean responded, “You’ll get your drinks in a moment. Hold on.” The man, shirtless and well-built turned in his chair. With his arm stretched over it he looked at Dean, “I didn’t pay to wait a moment. If she doesn’t get over here right now I’ll drag her whore ass over here.” Dean sighed, the man was being a bit of an ass but he wasn’t wrong. He did pay for service and he wasn’t getting it. Dean picked up the saucer from his table and walked over to the man’s table. Filling up his drink and his friends’. 'The man cackled, “Ha, filling our glasses like a bitch. Do you have a cock beneath that fancy armor of yours?” Dean ignored the comment and went to walk back to his table. Then the man grabbed his arm, “Hey I asked you a question.” Dean took a breath. “I said, do you even have a…” Dean turned his head and looked at the man. A purple energy burning in his eyes. The man began to tremble and his skin grew pale. His grip on Dean loosened and Dean went on his way. The man turning back in his chair, his friends mocking him. “Shut up. I said shut the hell up.” He said, trying to recover from whatever it was he saw in Dean’s eyes. 'Dean took a seat at his table, the waitress gone and Val across from him. “Is she okay?” Dean asked. “She will be.” Val responded. “She’s a strong girl.” Dean nodded, “Could be the lycan blood in her.” Val tilted her head, “What makes you think she’s a lycan?” Dean shrugged, “She works her doesn’t she?” Val shook her head, “That doesn’t guarantee she’s a lycan. Plus, she had green eyes. There’s nothing lycan about that.” Dean nodded, “True, but lycan’s can have normal eyes just like the rest of us. But her heart beat wasn’t normal.” '“What do you mean?” Val asked. “Her heart was beating uncontrollably when she started to cry.” Val threw her hands up, “That’s because she was upset. That’s totally normal.” Dean nodded, “Yes, to an extent. But she was holding something back. She was trying not to cry for a reason.” Then there was a sudden outburst. People yelling and a roar. The music being played by the band came to a stop as a silver haired lycan jumped out from behind the bar and ran on all fours across the room. Dean put his hand on the hilt of his sword and began to stand but before he could do so the lycan pounced on the shirtless man from before. “What did you call me?!” It roared. The man tried to push back on the wolf hybrid but the lycan didn’t let him move and slashed him across the chest for trying. “I asked, what did you call me?!” 'The man was trembling, “I don’t know. I don’t know you!” another man, one with gray hair and a red apron walked out from behind the bar. “Claire. Claire you need to calm down. Think about your brother. You don’t want to leave him alone in this world.” The man speaking was Gray, the owner of this establishment. '“What’s going on?” Val asked a bit panicked. Dean put a hand on her shoulder as he stood next to her, “It’s her.” Val looked to Dean about to ask what he meant when it dawned on her. “You were right…How did you…” She didn’t get to finish her question before there was another roar. “MY BROTHER!” The lycan ran across the room charging at The White Cross knight in the corner of the room, now with his blade drawn. 'Suddenly Dean was gone from Val’s side and at the other side of the room. Just before the two could strike each other down Dean stood in the middle, holding The White Cross Knight’s sword in one hand and the lycan’s throat in the other. “Claire is it?” He said struggling under the pressure of both the lycan and the knight's sword pressing ever harder as the two tried to break through Dean to reach the other. “I don’t know you very well but I know this isn’t you. You have to stop.” He looked to her, rage in her eyes. “You have to calm your heart so that you can keep your brother safe.” '''Dean started to tremble. He could feel Claire’s pressure start to diminish but the Knight had years of training and instinct telling him not to let go until his attacker was put down. Even if a bystander was in the middle of them. Dean’s arms began to tremble. “Claire. Please.” Dean looked into the face of the wolf and saw her green eyes. They looked heart broken. Suddenly she lifted back and stuck Dean, sending him flying into a wall. “DEAN!” Val screamed from across the room. Before Dean could regain himself Claire was gone, the door of the pub left ajar. Dean took a breath and then fell into the dark. Part Four When Dean woke up he was in his bed back at the inn. He blinked his eyes a few times to clear his vision. At his bedside was Valencia reading a book. “Hey there.” He said. She closed the book and turned to hug him. The book caught uncomfortably behind the back of his head and the pillow. “Thanks but you’re kind of jabbing me.” “Hmmm? Oh! I’m sorry.” she said pulling back and placing the book on the nightstand beside the bed. “I’m just glad you’re awake.” Dean smirked, “It’s going to take more than that to kill me.” “So did you carry me here all by yourself?” Dean asked. Val shook her head, “No you have Gray to thank for that. He could have carried you by himself but I insisted on helping so we brought you here. He didn’t stay long though.” Dean nodded, “Sounds like Gray. He has a bar to run after all. That was nice of him though.” Val stood up and looked out the window, “He figured he owed you as much since Claire was his waitress. He felt a bit responsible for what happened.” Dean stood up and rubbed the back of his head. It ached a bit but he was hoping it wouldn’t linger for long. “Wasn’t his fault. The girl was under a lot of pressure and not every lycan has full control over their emotions like Gray. Speaking of which, where is she?” Val kept her eyes looking through the window, her finger pressing up on the wooden blind with a slight ray of light across her nose just below her eyes. “Nobody knows as far as I’m aware. She ran off shortly after hitting you. She may be in trouble.” Dean threw his legs over the bed, sliding his boots back on. “Why do you say that?” He said tieing the laces. “Well that knight you held back from slicing her in two. He and a few of his comrades went looking for her. If they find her…” Dean stood up, placing his hand over her shoulder. “They won’t. Not before I do.” Val leaned her head back and took a breath before smiling, “You know you can’t do everything alone right?” He smirked, “Oh I ensure you I could.” Val turned pulling Dean’s hand off of her gently. “I’m going with you.” Dean hadn’t realized it until just now, but she wasn’t wearing her red dress anymore. She was wearing the outfit the tailor had made for her. She looked ready for a fight with her hair tied back and the thick leather tight against her body. It fit her figure perfectly. The tailor’s skill showed. “You like it?” She asked and at that moment Dean realized he had been staring, “Yeah, yeah it looks good on you.” She walked past him, “Better than it would on you.” He giggled, “Sure thing.”Category:Tales of Valentine